Night of the Living Spanner
by Ponella
Summary: STORY BETTER THAN TITLE, I SWEAR! A little Doctor/Donna friendship fic, possibly fluff. One night Donna hears odd noises but the culprit is one she didn't see coming, and who's her cuddly marauder?
1. Sleepfixing

**A/N:** This is an idea I got on the toilet. Now enjoy _Night of the Living Spanner_!

Alternating POV, starting with the Tenth Doctor's, then Donna's and then it could really go anywhere.

**Chapter One – Sleep-fixing**

I can't think why I keep waking up with a crick in my neck or muscle pulled in some unreachable place – I don't even want to talk about the amount of dirt and transmission fluid that magically appears on my person every morning.

Donna was always acting funny with me, but this day seemed extra special in the weird stakes and I couldn't think why.

"Could you stop giggling for a second to perhaps tell me why I'm so hilarious?"

She placed her undrunk mug of tea on the countertop of the TARDIS' marvellous kitchen, and inhaled deeply, "Have you done those repairs you were on about yesterday?"

I thought about it, deeply perturbed by the fact that she somehow knew about the urgent repairs I'd been mulling over the day before. Drawing up a blank on her sudden knowledge, I said, "I never told you anything about any repairs, and I think I'd have memory of completing some."

Her smirk returned, "Then you won't wanna check on– ooh, what's that pentagonal thingamajig? That's connected to the helmic regular?"

"The Dimensional Inversion Loop Brackets. In the event of landing the TARDIS within herself, the interloper is forced back into its own time and stability resumes." I didn't like the way Donna's eyes lit up with an 'I know something you don't' fire.

"Yeah, that. Thought you said it was on the blink."

It was my turn to take a breath. How could she have known they were, when he blatantly remembered _not_ staying anything?"

"You don't usually pay such close attention to what needs fixing on the old girl."

"Oh, anyone would need a trillion-horsepower treadmill to keep up with you! You just seemed pretty cut up about it, s'all."

I stared at her for a few seconds, but her expression didn't change from one of devilish humour in all that time.

"Right, off to see to those brackets…" I muttered, walking out of the room even more exhausted than I came in. And I still hadn't drank my own mug of tea.

* * *

(The night before)

* * *

I'm not normally a very observant person. Hell, I'd scuba-dived through a multidimensional multi-species alien invasion. But when my spaceman's up and walking like it's the most normal thing in the world at [supposedly] midnight, my interest is far more than piqued.

I tried everything; pillows to the ears, head under the blanket, even retrieving a pair of earmuffs I hadn't worn since my first footie match. None of it worked, and the usual daily racket being caused by my friend and driver assaulted my already painful eardrums.

I sat up in bed, and the noise seemed even louder.

I heard his voice for a second, cracked and drowsy; even from his words I could tell he'd been yelling at the TARDIS for hours, probably about the number of times she's got us into trouble lately.

He wouldn't quit on his own steam, so I stood in my pyjamas (I'd scared him in far worse) and made my way to the console room, where I knew the sound was originating.

Corridors kept changing, and I looked up to the ceiling witheringly. "You're not being fair, girl. Just let me pound _him_ down to size for a couple of minutes with a few choice words, and then we can all go back to normal and _silence_." After a moment of deliberation, the TARDIS clearly wasn't budging on her stance in the matter, but didn't hinder my progress further.

I pushed the door half-heartedly, not really caring if he heard me walking in as long as my message got through. A little gap was made, and I finally saw what he was fussing about.

There he stood, only visible from the armpits up as the rest of his body down was underneath the grating and probably knee-deep in wiring. The sonic screwdriver was lying forgotten against one of the consoles many levers, which was my first clue of strange behaviour.

I was about to announce myself when the manic look on his face appeared to my line of vision, the eyes firmly closed.

"He's sleep– what is he sleep-doing, exactly?" I whispered, knowing he wouldn't hear me.

His head turned in my direction, and I feared for a moment I'd been found out, but he went straight back to his jiggery-pokery.

The air returned to my lungs, and I opened the door all the way – wincing at the creaking bark the hinges erupted.

He was still engrossed in his work, never noticing me if I'd have smashed his head between two cymbals. He sat in the alcove he'd created for his contortionist frame, a penknife clamped between his teeth and the sonic screwdriver replaced in his free hand. I couldn't fathom why he'd need both, but he'd need a forklift to get himself out of such an ungodly mess.

"Doctor…?" I whispered, watching as he kept working. Working and working… I always knew the man would fix the TARDIS in his sleep if he could… I just didn't realize it had gotten this bad.

**A/N:** Short, I know! But I'm not in the right mindset for long right now, and if I try to do long a vast majority of it will be gobbledygook. That's my word of the day; gobbledygook, it's a brilliant word! And somehow in the OpenOffice registered vocabulary.

I'll probably do another chapter, because I'm loving this already and I'm sure further inspiration will strike when I least expect it, though hopefully at the weekend.


	2. Blind Man Cometh

**A/N:** I'd change the title to 'Nights of the Living Spanner', but I'm too bummed out that my new computer (Hilda) will take 3-4 weeks to get here, and I'll have to keep relying on my suicidal netbook (Rupert) for keeping all my files in one place until that time. He'd better get a new battery sooner or later or I'm just getting an Ultrabook – which I hear are the relative size of a netbook but have a hard-drive capacity similar to a laptop. Makes me wish Christmas or my birthday were already here.

Alternating POV again, starting with Donna, and then the Doctor, and then it's in the third person (because I'm lazy).

**Chapter Two – Blind Man Cometh**

He'd been ignoring me for two days straight. Finally on the third night, a new occurrence took place.

That's night, I felt arms wrap around me, much like gramps' did when I was feeling upset… 'cept his were never so lanky.

I remembered Lanky Kong, the otherwise completely forgotten one of the Donkey Kong brethren. The though made me smile, even as the warm stick-insect appendages enclosed around me – Lanky Kong had always been my favourite when the N64 game came out. I'd have to see if the Doctor had an N64 lying about, or at least a conversion pack…

By the way the TARDIS didn't call on her pilot to oust this intruder, I knew it wasn't merely some stranger, but it was an unsettling embrace nonetheless. There was no fondling or hanky-panky to phone home about, just a closeness. She huffed. So I wasn't even good enough for some complete stranger? They had a pitch-black few to look upon (if _he_ was even awake), but I still had the right to feel insulted and he was trespassing on my bosom with the way his arm curled around my back.

I glared at what I could only guess was his head in the vain hope that I would suddenly gain laser eyes and this newcomer would be toast.

Neither I nor the Doctor had mentioned the sleep-repairs incident, but something needed to be done when he sleepwalked right into my bed.

[The TARDIS giggled, knowing Donna wouldn't hear her. The ignorant human would not be so ignorant when she engaged the lights.]

There the Doctor was, right glued to me. I would have decked him if he didn't look so peaceful.

I vaguely wondered who had turned the lights on, but figured it must have been the TARDIS; interfering old bint that she was, and she was probably laughing about it too.

I took a second to mull over our situation. The Doctor wasn't trying any funny business, and he _had_ done everything in his sleep. I'd push him out if he ended up suffocating me, and that would soon be the case if his considerable body weight was anything to go by – so that's where he puts all that junk he eats! You wouldn't think it of him to look at him, the man'd join twigs anonymous before I got him to put a pound on those stringy arms.

While his bony arse would no doubt become a hindrance after a while, he wasn't too uncomfortable if he didn't give me a couple dozen paper cuts during the night. I looked at his face, that unforced smile I hadn't seen in months gracing his features, and I didn't have the heart to wake him.

"What to you think of when you do this?" I whispered, knowing a tribe of wild boars stampeding past the door wouldn't wake this man for the world.

'_Do what?_'

I gasped. It was like an echo in my head, a slightly detached voice matching the tone I'd gotten so used to from him but in my mind's ear. I silently wondered if this is what it might be like for the Vulcans.

'_Yes, it is – well, not really, because Vulcan children were inspiration for your Earth elves and then there's the fifth law of safe telepathy and… oh, but you don't need to hear my rambling!_'

'_**I do!**_' I said. I'd just _thought_ that, '_**Who are you…?**_'

'_Donna, it's me._'

A few mental walls became erected between one of them, but she didn't know which, '_**Sorry, I don't know a 'Me'. If you're just a voice warning me of my own mental breakdown, join the queue.**_'

'_Now's no time to be your usual obnoxious self, we both have some soul-searching to do!_'

Her eyes narrowed, '_**Go on then, Jimmy Cricket. Tell me some claptrap about the light within and being myself, then bugger off back to your own head.**_'

The voice laughed, '_If only I could. I am the Doctor's subconscious, and he needs your help._'

* * *

I knew this place.

I was initially surprised when my mind hadn't conjured up an image of Gallifrey as it always did, so some of the burden must finally have been lifted. I wondered if Donna had something to do with that.

"Hello, my Doctor."

I shook my head at her, "I'm no-one's"

"And yet you call out to the one woman, besides me, who could possibly be of any help in this time of need." there the TARDIS stood, bold as brass – or at least a humanoid personification of her.

"You could try to strike up a conversation once in a while. I swear it gets boring here on my lonesome." I said, smiling.

"And you can try actually aiming for the toilet when you urinate once in the while."

I blushed, "You saw that?"

"I see everything. Stars and planets and galaxies being born and dying in all of a millisecond, and how can you not see what's staring you in the face?"

"What do you mean?"

"Try talking to your best friend sometime. It could be… enlightening, for both of us."

"I'd love to, but I don't know how to get out of this strange place." he said bitterly.

_SMACK!_

* * *

"DONNA!"

"What, what is it you twonk!"

He put his hand to his face, "…The TARDIS slapped me."

"What are you on about now?"

He turned to face her, a horrifying realization taking over his features, "What am I doing in your bed?"

"You walked in hear during the night, goodness knows what was going on in that noggin o' yours. Lost your teddy bear, perhaps?"

At his raised eyebrows, she knew the past few days still hadn't gotten through, "You've been sleepwalking, you sod!"

"I have? Well, what do you know?" he grinned, "She did say our next conversation would be enlightening. I didn't think she meant the 'turning the light back on' kind."

"You better have an explanation for this. Namely, why you've become my personal nighttime stalker – not that I haven't always fancied one, but you can't honestly see me fighting off hordes of creepy admirers at 3am?"

"Was I doing anything… weird?"

"Why'dya ask?"

"Absolutely no reason, I just though that since I was preoccupied with the TARDIS my unconscious mind may have drifted in my sleep."

"Yeah, well… we've both have weird dreams, and that's all they are. _Dreams_. Go back to sleep."

"You aren't going to kick me out?"

"Nah, you're actually pretty warm for a skinny bloke. C'mon, we're won't get any rest with the lights on." she clapped into the air, and the TARDIS obediently sent them back into darkness. The Doctor didn't have the time to think on how she'd managed to control the TARDIS simply by smacking her hands together when his eyelids sought out gravity like a plague.

One thought made him restless that night. _I'm warm_.

**A/N:** …I regret nothing.

Anyone who knows of Time Lord legend (or reads to much DW fanfiction than is good for them, like me) knows that a Gallifreyan's natural body temperature is actually lower than a humans, so it sounds like the Doctor's getting a fever. That would also explain the over-sleepiness, and maybe the sleepwalking.

Listen to me diagnosing this, I'm not of the medical profession! Hell, even I don't know what's going on, we'll just have to hope our dear Doctor doesn't fall ill.

I think I've been beating up the Doctor because I can't kill the huge Thompson head in my Tintin game and a whole load of other weird shit. Don't mind me, I'll just go nuke my brother. (And he deserves it for not being around when I needed him to re-sync the wiimotes and be a decoy in the great Thompson battle. He would have been Castafiore.)

Lanky Kong was secretly always _my_ favourite of the Kong's too, even know I don't remember what he looked like. I wonder if King Kong ever sued Nintendo for copyright infringement…


End file.
